William DeArteaga, Quenching The Spirit Examining Centuries Of Opposition

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William

DeArteaga, Quenching

the

Spirit: Examining Opposition

to the

Moving of

the

Holy Spirit (Lake Creation House,

1992).

300

pp. $14.99,

hardback.

Centuries Mary,

of FL:

Reviewed

by Henry

H.

Knight

III

There have been a number of excellent historical and

theological

works written

by

charismatics from within the Roman

Catholic,

Lutheran,

and Reformed traditions. William

DeArteaga’s Quenching

the

Spirit

is the first substantive work written from an

independent

or

“new” charismatic

perspective.

As

such,

it warrants careful

reading

and

a serious

response.

It makes both historical and constructive

theological

arguments.

The historical

argument,

which is the central theme of the

book,

concerns

the

recurring phenomenon

of “Pharisaism.”

DeArteaga

defines the Pharisee as “a

deeply religious person who, among

other things, staunchly

asserts and defends the status

quo

with

regard

to tradition,

order and consensus

orthodoxy” (16).

“Consensus orthodoxy”

refers to the

commonly

held

theological interpretations

of religious people

in a particular age.

Pharisaism

exaggerates

the truths of consensus

orthodoxy

in order to oppose any

new work of the

Holy Spirit.

Like the

opposite extreme, Gnosticism,

the Pharisee is

biblically

defined as a

heretic;

but

contrary to our usual

way

of

thinking,

Pharisaism is “heretical in

spite

of its theological

correctness”

(17).

The fundamental error of Pharisaism is their

intellectualizing

of faith. Instead of

understanding

faith as “trust in God and

expectancy

in His provision,”

the Pharisees in Jesus’

day

“evaluated

religious questions and

spiritual phenomenon

on the basis of authoritative

opinion

rather than

spiritual

discernment”

(19). Thus, they

would

question

the authority by

which Jesus or the

Apostles

acted rather than

examining ‘

the fruit of their

activity. DeArteaga

calls this

“judging by origins.”

In

contrast,

both Jesus and Paul insisted that these matters be evaluated not

by their origins

but

by their

fruit. This evaluative standard was the

only

means identified to test and discern whether a

particular phenomenon

is

truly

of God.

However, DeArteaga notes,

“the fruit criterion should

only

be used to test those

things

within the

possibility of

scriptural validity. Things plainly contrary

to

Scripture

cannot be tested

by their fruits” (22).

DeArteaga’s argument

thus far is persuasive. But it should be noted that the use of

scriptural validity

to

negate

the “fruit criterion” is precisely

the

point

for Pharisaism: The fruit is irrelevant because the persons

or movements violate the “consensus

orthodoxy”

and its interpretation

of

Scripture.

As a

result,

no new movement of the

Spirit can defend itself

by appealing

to fruit

alone; exegetical

and

theological

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228

resources are

necessary

to

challenge

“consensus”

interpretations

of Scripture. DeArteaga

himself offers such a defense of the

independent charismatics in the latter

portion

of the book.

Having

described

Pharisaism, DeArteaga

offers three historical case studies which show how it has functioned to

“quench

the

Spirit.”

The first in the Great

Awakening

in

eighteenth-century

North

America, which is described as a

“messy”

revival: it is a

genuine

work of

God, but it is marked

by

extremism. While the fruit of the

Awakening

was apparent

in changed lives and the

evangelization

of tens of thousands of unchurched Americans, the revival was

accompanied

with self-righteousness,

divisiveness and a lack of wisdom. A Pharisaic reaction,

led

by Charles Chauncy,

saw the

Awakening

as an enthusiastic deviation from sound doctrine and

good order, eventually putting

an end to the revival

by turning

the

clergy against

it.

DeArteaga

sees obvious

parallels

between the Great

Awakening

and the

contemporary Charismatic Movement.

One

advantage

the Great

Awakening

had over

today’s

charismatics was Jonathan Edwards as its most

distinguished

advocate.

Defending the revival

against

rationalist critics such as

Chauncy,

Edwards at the same time

distinguished

the

genuine

work of God in the

Awakening against

the extremists. Edwards insisted the true test of revival was not emotionalistic behaviors but “the ultimate

spiritual

fruit”

(43).

In taking this

approach,

I would

add,

Edwards

parallels

John

Wesley’s

defense of the

Evangelical Awakening

in England.

With the Great

Awakening

as his

paradigm, DeArteaga

offers two other historical studies. The first shows the

development

of the doctrine of

cessationism,

which excessive and

superstitious

claims for the miraculous on the

part

of Roman Catholicism led to Protestant denials that miracles and

gifts

of the

Spirit

are for

today.

The

teaching

of Calvin in this

regard

becomes hardened in Protestant

scholasticism, Scottish commonsense

realism,

and most

radically

in John Nelson Darby’s dispensationalism (all

of which are essential elements iri twentieth-century fundamentalism).

This

tracing

of the historical

origin of cessationism is a major contribution of the book.

The second describes the

evangelical

faith-cure movement of the nineteenth

century, focusing

on Charles Cullis and A. J. Gordon.

Again, the movement was a

“messy” revival,

marred

by

extremists such as John Alexander

Dowie;

a Pharisaic reaction

by

Methodist James Buckley

insured the

healing

movement would be considered heretical and banished from mainline churches.

In his historical

argument, DeArteaga

makes the

provocative

claim that the defenders of rational

orthodoxy

tend to fall into the

heresy

of Pharisaism when faced with a genuine work of God. Put

differently,

he is

describing

the

perennial

conflict between

pietism

and

scholasticism, in which each side sees the other’s excesses as

typical

and

dangerous,

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229

while

remaining

blind to excesses of their own.

The value of an

once,

Edwards or a

Wesley

is their

ability

to see excesses on

both sides at

while at the same time

integrating

traditional

orthodoxy

with the new

awakening.

The constructive

argument

is even more

provocative. DeArteaga understands the

philosophical underpinnings

of Protestant consensus

to be materialist

realism, against

which he advocates a moderate Christian idealism:

orthodoxy

By Christian idealism we mean a viewpoint that understands that and words influence the natural world to some

thoughts

degree. At the same time it is understood that the universe and the material order are God-created and

stable. (131)

universe; observer).

nature

At the same

time,

of the mind

(the

makes the best

miracles, explanation:

He defends this

position by appealing

to both natural and

special revelation. Modern science

depicts

an idealist rather than a realist

does not

operate independent

an idealist hermeneutic

sense of the

testimony

of

Scripture.

In

contrast,

realist materialism is unable to

provide

a satisfactory explanation of reality.

This lack of

explanatory power

is

especially

true with

regard

to

which realism disallows. In

contrast, DeArteaga

offers this

(fallen)

Miracles are works of God which change the natural course of our

universe. In some

present

way God’s will and power cooperate with man’s mind through the biblically named “faculty” of faith. Some miracles, as in the original creation, are purely the sovereign word of God. (138)

structure

ultimate However,

our own

faith,

philosophical

DeArteaga

in the universe”

(140).

observation,

not

is

essentially

New

Thought

this erroneous

“Quantum physics,”

he notes,

“suggests

that observation finalizes the

of matter”

(142).

In a move reminiscent of

Edwards,

DeArteaga

then

argues

that God is the

prime

observer or

mind,

“the

source of

stability

and

continuity

which he calls

“anticipated

only

finalizes but

changes

the course of events”

(142). Here, then,

is a

and

theological

foundation for faith

theology.

denies that faith

theology

heresy

in Christian

disguise.

D. R. McConnell makes

judgment

because he

employs

the

“origins argument:”

E. W.

Kenyon

used New

Thought ideas,

thus his faith

theology

is

–

heresy. Instead,

McConnell should examine the fruit of faith

theology.

New

Thought

prompted Kenyon

to rediscover a biblical moderate idealism in contrast

to the radical idealism of the

metaphysical

cults and the materialist

consensus

orthodoxy.

In contrast to

McConnell,

Charles Farah is admired

by DeArteaga

for

offering

a Jonathan

Edwards-style

constructive

reproof

and affirmatior

of the

healing movement.

On the other

hand,

Dave Hunt

represents

realism of Protestant

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230

extreme Pharisaism in his failure to understand faith

theology

and in his zealous condemnation which distorts and

inaccurately

cites their

of

DeArteaga’s

prosperity

again

differently. Wesley prosperity, provoking

Methodists

against echoing

Given the

materialistic,

“enough,”

constructive

argument precludes

a

writings.

The

complexity

detailed

response

here. I will

simply

offer three areas in which further discussion would be fruitful. The first concerns his

understanding

of

as

spirituality. DeArteaga charges

the desert fathers with the abandonment of the biblical

teaching

on

prosperity, culminating

in a monastic “cult of poverty” that established a Christian ideal inaccessible to the

laity (167). Although

the Protestant work

ethic, emphasized by the

Puritans,

is a

partial recovery

of the biblical

teaching,

it is once

lost in the nineteenth

century.

There New

Thought

rediscovers it and more

adequately

states it in terms of spiritual laws.

A

Wesleyan perspective

reads both

Scripture

and church

history

understands the central

teaching

of

Scripture

to be

the desert fathers to recover holiness

through spiritual discipline.

Just as

DeArteaga distinguishes

between extreme and

“Bible-affirming” wings

of New

Thought, Wesley

was aware of radical and more moderate strands of monasticism. In

warning

the

the

danger

of

riches, Wesley

believed he was

the

overwhelming teaching

of the

prophets,

Jesus and Paul.

consumption-oriented society

in which North Americans

live,

I believe

Wesley

and the desert fathers have much to teach us.

Perhaps

we need neither a cult of poverty or

prosperity

but of

placing

all else in the service of God. We need to let Scripture

rather than societal norms determine how much is enough.

A second issue concerns

spiritual

laws.

DeArteaga

defines them as “those biblical

principles

that

govern

the interaction between man’s ethical acts and their

consequences, especially this-worldly

To his

credit, DeArteaga rejects oversimplified views of

spiritual law; Scripture presents

universe as lawful but “modified

by mercy, grace

and other factors such as the role of

hardship

in holiness formation”

(180).

He cites Gerhard Von Rad’s observation that much of

which

DeArteaga

consequences” (176).

act-consequence ( 179).

relationship,

the moral order of the

Scripture posits

an

calls a “tit-for-tat”

of God. Divine

promise

was

physics. wisdom,

most

My

concern is with the

sovereignty

often construed

by

both New

Thought

and the holiness movement as spiritual laws, parallel

in some

ways

to Newtonian While Scripture may

indeed offer some

“act-consequence”

centrally

it

portrays

a God who is both faithful and free. God indeed keeps promises,

but in God’s own

timing

and manner. Thus in terms of God,

our actions do not

trigger

an automatic

consequence.

While these

the

complexity

and nuance of

comments

do not do

justice

to

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231

DeArteaga’s arguments, hopefully they

at least raise some issues for further consideration.

The final area of concern has to do with the

categories

of “idealism” and “realism.”

DeArteaga

uses them in a distinctive and

carefully defined manner. But he does

not,

for

example, engage

Kantian idealism,

which

argues

that

reality-in-itself

is unknowable and what we call

reality

is a construct of our mind as it is

impacted by

the phenomena

of

experience.

While some

evangelicals

have

sought

to make use of Kantian

insights through

“worldview”

analysis,

others have found a middle

ground

between idealism and naive realism in a “critical realism.” T. F. Torrance would

argue

that critical realism is more reflective of modern science than idealism; neo-charismatics like Charles Kraft would build their account of miracles on a combination of worldview

analysis

and critical realism.

My point

here is that there is an entire area of discussion which needs to hear and be heard

by DeArteaga.

It would be

especially helpful

to see the continuities and discontinuities between his moderate idealism and a critical realism, and the value of each for the

interpretation

of

Scripture

and the

explaining of God’s

activity

in the world.

I look forward to further discussion of these and other

issues with William

DeArteaga.

His

thoughtful presentation

is a

significant contribution to our

understanding

of charismatic

theology

and

puts

us all in his debt.

Henry

H.

Knight

III is Assistant Professor of

Evangelism

at Saint Paul School of Theology in Kansas

City,

Missouri.

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